


white lies

by baileyisbest



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 22:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileyisbest/pseuds/baileyisbest
Summary: "It's not a break-up," he said.But it sure feels like one.





	white lies

They break up at the airport.

“It’s not a break-up,” Lance insists, patting his pockets for his phone and his passport like the bomb he just dropped on Keith is nothing but an afterthought.

Keith just stares at him, bores a hole into his forehead, as if looking at Lance hard enough might give him some concrete answers. It doesn’t.

Lance turns his gaze up, finally realizing that Keith hasn’t said a single word. He smiles sympathetically, which pisses Keith off even more.

“Just a teeny, tiny break,” he tries again while straightening out his sweater. It’s grey and unbelievably soft. Keith bought it for his birthday last year.

Lance just keeps looking at him with those pleading blue eyes and Keith realizes that he needs to say something now.

“What,” he finally manages. It comes out rough, like he’s just woken up from a long nap. A million thoughts run through his head but Keith decides to stop thinking so much because he can only imagine Shiro saying _patience yields focus_ so many times before something inside him will snap and he’ll do something incredibly impulsive, like pick up his boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) and hurl him across the terminal.

“I won’t be here anyways,” Lance continues. “I think we should take this opportunity to be apart. Some alone time. Isn’t that something that people need?”

“Fine,” Keith snaps, because he’s mad and doesn’t know what else to say. How do you respond to something like that?

“I know you’re not happy about this, but please understand. I know you will, eventually.” 

Instead of acknowledging whatever else Lance has to say, Keith just points a finger at the gate.

“You’re going to be late,” he bites out.

Lance’s gaze turns tender for a moment. Then he leans in and kisses Keith on the cheek.

“I love you,” he whispers. And then he turns around and leaves.

Keith watches silently as Lance disappears through security check, carry-on in one hand and Keith’s heart in the other. He might as well have ripped it into pieces.

Keith doesn’t cry in the car. He cries when he gets back to their apartment and sees Lance’s empty coffee mug on the kitchen counter.

Keith _accidentally_ drops it on the floor and it shatters across the tiles. He feels good in the worst way when he sweeps the pieces into the trash.

 

-

 

That had been one week ago. Today is Sunday and Keith is nothing short of lost without his boyfriend.

Literally, he is lost.

“How the fuck are you lost?” Pidge seethes when Keith calls her to ask for directions. He’s half an hour late.

“Don’t judge me,” he mutters darkly when he’s finally there. He takes a seat without ordering anything. “I’m bad with geography.”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “More like, Lance was your human GPS and you forgot how to cross the street without him.”

Keith ducks his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Pidge is right; he and Lance did everything and went everywhere together. This morning, he made enough eggs and toast for two people, then put his mug under the coffeemaker and waited for ten minutes before realizing that there was no coffee because Lance wasn’t around to brew any.

“It’ll go by fast,” Pidge says, carefully stirring sugar into her coffee.

“What?” Keith asks, his eyes following the circular motion of her hand. It’s meticulous and exact, just like the rest of her. 

“Five months, right? At least it’s not a year. Months go by quick.”

And that’s when Keith realizes that Pidge doesn’t know. Which means Hunk doesn’t know. And if Lance didn’t tell Hunk, then he probably didn’t tell anybody else.

_What?_

“Pidge, I don’t know how to say this...” Keith admits, picking at his fingernails. He’s biting his lip and shaking his leg, his body full of tells and none of them have anything good to say.

“...but Lance broke up with me.” 

“ _What_.” Pidge actually spits out her coffee. Most of it lands on the table but Keith feels some of it on his arm.

“Say again?” she asks, mopping the liquid up with a napkin. “I don’t think I heard you right.”

“Lance broke up with me,” Keith repeats and he nearly winces at how bitter it comes out. The words taste sour in his mouth. 

“Are you sure?” Pidge sounds dubious. “What were his exact words?”

Keith lets out a frustrated sigh as he leans back in his seat. 

“He said we should use his work trip as a chance to ‘be apart’.” He pauses for a moment, thinking about Lance’s words which he had mulled over a million times, trying to pull any meaning from them but the obvious. “He thinks we need _alone time_.”

“That’s...interesting,” Pidge observes plainly.

Keith snorts.

“I don’t think it’s that interesting,” he says, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

“You know what I mean.” Pidge rolls her eyes again. “You have to realize that this doesn’t mean Lance left you.”

“What does it mean, then?” Keith snaps.

Pidge looks at him quietly, her mouth shut. The question isn’t for her. It’s for Lance, who flew halfway across the globe but not without breaking up with his boyfriend at the airport first. There should really be a special place in hell reserved for people who pulled last minute shit like that.

“Fuck. I don’t know- I'm sorry,” Keith apologizes, his hands curling into fists. “I just don’t know.”

“Maybe that’s what he wants you to figure out,” Pidge offers. It’s the best she can do. 

Keith gives her a tiny smile, the fake kind that means things are bad right now, but he’s still trying.

“Maybe,” he replies.

 

-

 

When they had started dating, like _actually_ started dating, it hadn’t been so much new, young love as it was falling in step with something that had been there the whole time.

Since they shared the same friends, not much had really changed. Only now, Lance held his hand when they walked to lunch and Keith could tell Lance he loved him instead of just thinking it.

He told him all the time. When Lance woke up in the morning and when he left for class, when he was late to lunch and when he came back home. And also at night, before they went to bed.

Keith had learned a while ago that it was a lot easier to say what you meant now than to regret your silence later. The _I love you_ s and _goodbye_ s meant for his parents stayed in his heart for a long time, long after their deaths, before he was finally able to let it go. He would not make the same mistake with anyone else. Especially not Lance.

“Doesn’t the phrase start to lose its meaning?” Lance once asked when they were both laying in bed at night, wide awake. The midterm season had been upon them but despite the lack of sleep, they always seemed to save enough time for each other.

“Doesn’t what lose its meaning?” Keith asked, turning on his side to look at his boyfriend. 

“You tell me that you love me all the time. I bet I hear it a hundred times a day. Seems a little unfair, don’t you think?” 

“Oh.” Keith had never thought about it that way. “Do you want me to say it less?” 

Lance leaned in, bringing their faces impossibly close.

“Nah,” he said and placed a kiss on Keith’s lips. “I think I just need to say it more.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed. He hadn’t been able to contain his smile back them.  “I love you.”

Lanced smiled back.

“I love you.”

 

-

 

Keith hasn’t lived alone in years. Not since his parents died and Shiro had left for college. Thinking about what he went through then makes it a little easier to handle what he’s dealing with now.

The apartment is quiet without Lance, but it’s not empty. Cosmo is waiting for him when he gets home from work, nudging his leg with a leash in his mouth.

“Okay, alright,” Keith laughs softly, putting his bag down. “We can go for a walk.”

The park is empty at this hour but Cosmo seems content with just playing in the snow. The January chill doesn’t bother either of them. Lance had been the cold one, always turning up the thermostat and hogging the fleece blanket. 

“You’re so warm,” he would say, shoving his hands into Keith’s coat pockets. “You can be my personal furnace.” And Keith would just deal with it because he liked being close to Lance.

 _God_ , he thinks. The snow crunches under his feet. _It’s not like he’s dead_.

It’s stupid that Keith thinks about things in terms of _before Lance left_ and _after Lance left_. But it was true, wasn’t it? Not only was Lance not physically here, but they weren’t _together_. At least, not at the moment.

 _Just a teeny, tiny break_. Keith wants to laugh. What the fuck did that even mean?

He knows that he only wants to believe this is a real break-up because it’s easier to be mad at Lance than it is to be mad at himself. To think that Lance doesn’t love him anymore than to know that Lance still loves him but doesn’t want to be with him.

 _But he does love you_ , says a little voice in the back of his head. _What did you do?_

Keith shuts his eyes closed. His thoughts are poison.

_What did you do that was so bad, he had to leave?_

Cosmo whines, circling his legs before shaking the snow off his fur. He’s done playing.

“Alright, boy,” Keith sighs. He gathers himself. “Let’s go home.”

Keith microwaves leftovers and makes a mental note to purchase groceries for one person instead of two. He doesn’t like eating in silence, so he sits at the couch and turns on the TV.

Lance would’ve nagged him for this, complaining about messy crumbs and fabric stains before eventually huffing in defeat and joining in anyways. Lance on the left, Keith on the right, and Cosmo right in the middle.

For a moment, it feels satisfyingly taboo for Keith to take up the entire couch, his legs resting where Lance would usually sit. But then he realizes that it leaves no room for the dog, so Keith quickly puts his feet down. Cosmo jumps onto his usual spot, leaving Lance’s side casually empty, as if he could just walk in through the front door, shivering from the cold.

 _I’m sorry,_ he would say. _I got held up at work._ And then he would take off his shoes and sit on the couch, eating dinner and watching TV like it was any other night.

Keith discovers that there’s lots of Lance-shaped spaces in the apartment.

He stands a little to the side when he brushes his teeth at the sink, centering himself when he realizes that Lance isn’t here to complain about sharing the faucet. Half the closet goes untouched, because Keith never found it appealing to wear someone else’s clothes while Lance, for some unfathomable reason, loved stealing his.

It’s hard to think that at this time two weeks ago, Lance had been right here, trying to choose the right tie.

 _Red or blue?_ he had asked, holding both of them up.

 _Isn't that one mine?_ Keith said, eyeing the red one suspiciously.

 _If it’s yours, then it’s mine._ Lance made it sound simple, like the most obvious fact in the world.

_Now, come on. Which one?_

Keith chose blue, of course. It was his favorite color on Lance, even though Lance honestly looked good in just about everything.

The Lance-shaped space that makes Keith feel the emptiest is the one in their bed. There’s a cold dip where Lance’s body should be, no warmth for Keith to bury into. It feels lonely.

Cosmo usually sleeps on the couch but Keith pats the empty spot next to himself, beckoning him closer. He goes to sleep that night with Cosmo at his side and wakes up the next morning with a mouthful of fur.

But it’s fine. At least he has this.

 

-

 

The customer demographic at Whole Foods is full of perfect nuclear families and young twenty-somethings in expensive yoga pants. Keith feels a little out of place with his ripped jeans and leather jacket but it’s not like he’s actually going to pay fifteen dollars for a hunk of artisan cheese.

“Why are you even here?” Shiro asks as he idly watches Adam pick out the good kale. “Don’t you and Lance usually go to Wal-Mart or something?”

“Safeway,” Keith corrects. “And you guys have a car.”

“But you have a car too?” Adam points out as he bags three bunches of produce.

“It’s Lance’s car.” Keith pauses a moment. “And I don’t like driving.”

“So now we’re your personal chauffeurs?” Shiro asks with disdain. As if driving an extra two blocks to pick up his little brother was the most taxing thing in the world.

“You know, this isn’t the kind of treatment I expected when I said that the love of my life broke up with me.”

“He didn’t break up with you,” Shiro scoffs. “Trust me, I have a lot of experience with break-ups.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Adam says from behind a pile of organic apples.

“Yeah, asshole. That’s why I said it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Keith mutters. He came here to get relationship advice, not give it. And also, maybe some free groceries.

“What I’m trying to say,” Shiro explains, “is that if Adam and I and can stay together even after all the horrible things he’s done to me, then-”

“Or all the horrible things _you’ve_ done to _me_?” Adam menacingly waves a spring onion in his hand.

“We can settle this at dinner,” Shiro commands, both hands up like a traffic controller. “Keith, you wanna come over for zoodles tonight?”

“I guess,” he sighs. “A free meal will cheer me up.”

“Well, how does your happiness scale feel about _this_?” Shiro spins around with unnecessary pizzazz. There’s a cauliflower in his hands. It’s Keith’s favorite vegetable.

“I’m like a good two out of ten.”

“Solid,” Shiro nods before free-throwing it into the shopping cart. It crushes the three bags of chips that are already inside.

“Shiro!” Adam scolds. “Our snacks!”

“Adam!” Shiro mimics his tone. “It’s fine! We can get more.”

Keith rolls his eyes. He tries not to be jealous of his brother.

 

-

 

Their first date had been at the movies. Technically, it wasn’t even supposed to be a date, but Pidge and Hunk had simultaneously cancelled on their regular Tuesday hangout. Allura was out of the country, visiting her weird uncle in New Zealand or something. So, Keith and Lance were left alone to share a large popcorn and whatever film was out that week.

Keith doesn’t even remember the title of the movie they saw. All he remembers is being worried if they could even make it through the entire thing without one of them storming out of the theater.

At that point in their friendship, it had been hard for Keith and Lance to stay in one room without getting into a heated argument about _something_. It could be about anything, everything, or nothing at all. They would always find some way to disagree.

“You’re on thin fucking ice,” Lance said, shoveling popcorn into his mouth. “I’m still mad at you for embarrassing me in class.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked as he filled up his soda cup. “We’re supposed to calculate down to the hundredths. Your answer was clearly wrong.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Lance muttered.

Keith rolled his eyes. “You’re fucking delusional if you think Iverson likes me,” he said, pushing open the door to the theater. “He still hates me for pointing out typos on his slides. 

“How about we just let the numbers talk?” Lance proposed, guiding the two of them to their seats. “I’m totally beating you on the next quiz.”

“Sure,” Keith scoffed as he settled into the reclining seat. “We’ll see about that.”

They watched a big budget action movie that was mostly made up of fight scenes and explosions. Keith was about to comment on how bored he was when Lance slumped into his side, his head resting on Keith’s shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he whispered, bewildered and confused. Lance didn’t answer.

He had fallen asleep on Keith.

 _Oh my god_ , Keith thought. _This isn’t happening_.

Oh, but it was happening. The hours of late-night studying had finally caught up to Lance and he had fallen asleep on top of his declared arch nemesis, a nonplussed Keith who had suddenly felt kind of hot.

“This was nice,” Lance admitted when he got out of the theater. They stepped onto the sidewalk, breathing in the cold night air.

“What do you mean?” Keith deadpanned. “All you did was sleep.”

“Yeah, and it was nice,” Lance said. “We should do this again, just the two of us.” 

And just like that, Keith felt his face turn a nice, bright pink color. They should do _what_ again? He thanked the stars that it was dark outside.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, the words stumbling out. “Whoever scores lower on the next quiz has to pay for dinner.”

_Did he really just ask Lance out to dinner?_

“Yeah?” Lance replied, his face lighting up. Keith instantly wanted to die. “I think that’s a great idea.”

And then Lance smiled. Like a real smile, not one of those smug grins or winky faces he made when he flirted at strangers, and Keith knew he was fucked.

He called Shiro later that night.

“What do you want?” Shiro sighed, voice crackling to life over the line. He sounded tired but Keith knew he’d been awake.

“How do you know if you like someone?”

It was silent for a moment.

“Shiro?”

“Oh my god,” Shiro remarked. “You called to ask _this_?”

“You were already awake!” Keith replied. He started to feel hysterical. “Answer my question!”

“Keith, if the thought crosses your mind and you decided to call me, then it’s probably what you think it is.”

Shiro paused for a second. 

“Wait, is this about Lance?”

“ _What_?” Keith spluttered.

“Alright, let’s talk about this tomorrow at a reasonable hour like normal people.”

And then Shiro hung up the phone.

Keith had spent the rest of the night staring wide-eyed at his dorm room ceiling. It had felt like he was experiencing too many emotions. He was every level of the scale, a zero and a ten and everything in between, all at once.

Before Lance, Keith had never really liked anyone before.

It was terrifying.

 

-

 

Keith is pretty sure that everyone in the friend group is supposed to choose sides during a break-up. It’s like, an unwritten rule or something.

That’s why he’s surprised when Pidge and Hunk still show up at his front door for family night dinner. It’s Keith and Lance’s turn to host this month, but Lance is usually the one who buys groceries. All Keith has in the fridge is a loaf of bread and the cauliflower Shiro bought him.

“Don’t worry, I brought ingredients,” Hunk says, holding up a big paper bag.

“Um, thanks,” Keith mumbles. This is the first time he’s talked to Hunk since the break-up. He really doesn’t deserve a friend like Hunk.

“Allura isn’t coming?” Pidge asks, immediately zoning in on Cosmo. “How are you, you big beautiful boy?”

“No,” Keith answers, rubbing his temples. “She’s visiting her weird uncle in- “

“New Zealand?” Pidge and Hunk suggest simultaneously. 

“Yeah,” Keith sighs. “New Zealand.”

“Wasn’t she just there last month?” Hunk asks, unloading the groceries onto Keith’s kitchen island. 

“I think so,” Keith says. He’s not really sure what Allura does these days. It must be nice, being rich and all.

Hunk cooks them a very nice ravioli dinner with chicken and brussels sprouts. Keith helps by cutting the vegetables while Pidge makes her contribution from the couch, complaining about Matt’s newest quest to grow out his hair.

 _Oh my god_ , Lance would’ve said if he was here. _As if having one mullet around wasn’t enough. I’ll cut off his hair myself_.

“This is going to sound mean,” Pidge says around a mouthful of chicken, “but I’m going to need you to stop staring at Lance’s empty table seat.”

“Oh.” Keith stops chewing. “I’ve been doing that?”

“Yeah,” Hunk says sympathetically. “You’ve kind of been doing it a lot.”

“Sorry,” Keith apologizes. “I usually eat at the couch.” The table always felt too big for just one person.

“I know you miss him,” Pidge says, putting her fork down. “But even if you guys were still ‘together’, things wouldn’t be much different. He’d still be on business in Italy.” 

She puts air quotes around “together”. It annoys Keith because it implies, in some manner, that they still are _together_. Keith doesn’t think that’s true at all.

“I mean, I guess?” he says. “I just don’t think it was necessary for him to break up with me at the airport.”

“That was a bit much,” Hunk admits. “But have you ever considered that he did it to save you the trouble of feeling lonely while he’s gone?”

Keith snorts. “If that’s what Lance wanted, then his plan sure backfired.”

“Lance can be pretty dumb, sometimes,” Pidge agrees, clearing the plates for dessert. “But we can talk about something else if that’s easier.”

“Yeah,” Keith says. “I would like that.”

The truth is that Hunk may be onto something – Keith has considered that possibility. He’s thought about it a million times, the same number of times he’s tried to decipher and interpret Lance’s last words to him. Trying to protect Keith from loneliness...it very much seems like something Lance would do. But in the end, it’s easier to just think that Lance has just dumped him for whatever mysterious reason that he doesn’t want to find out.

Keith knows he’s being stupid. But he wants to be mad at Lance, for just a bit longer.

 

-

 

Two months into his solitude, Keith receives a letter in the mail.

The envelope was mailed first class from Milan, postmarked yesterday. Keith doesn’t need to look at the return address to know who it’s from.

Lance hasn’t texted or called since the break-up, probably because he knew Keith wouldn’t respond or pick up. Keith can’t help but laugh as he digs around the drawer for a letter opener. Of course, Lance would be the first to resort to international snail mail. What’s next, smoke signals?

The letter is less than a page long, a thoroughly unimpressive length, in Keith’s opinion, for two people who haven’t spoken in a month. And then Keith realizes he must really be far gone because he catches himself thinking that the paper smells like Lance.

He holds the cardstock up to his nose, inhaling deeply. He’s not delusional, it really does smell faintly of that awful Armani cologne that Lance loves to wear. Isn’t Armani an Italian brand? Lance must be having a field day over there.

Keith isn’t entirely sure if he’s ready to read what Lance has to say, but he figures he should quickly get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. He takes one look at Lance’s loopy cursive, his skinny Ls and curved Ys, and almost cries. It’s been weeks since he’s seen that handwriting.

 

_Hey Sunshine. How are you doing? I know you won’t respond to any text or calls but I figured that if I went through the trouble of sending you a letter, you wouldn’t throw it away. Even your black heart wouldn’t do that, right?_

_You’re probably still mad at me, but I meant what I said. You’ll understand eventually. Milan is great, by the way. It’s not exactly beautiful but if I had a dollar for every time I caught myself thinking of the next time I could come back and bring you here, I might have enough money to pay for all the gelato I’ve eaten. I know you can’t do lactose but maybe you could risk it just this once (or couple times – the gelato here is REALLY good)._

_Another thing about Italy – their Chinese food is great! I never thought that Chinatown would be one of my favorite parts about this city but a lot of things have a funny way of making themselves be known. I’m adding this to the list of places I have to take you. Work is alright – I’m probably like a seven on most days. Tell Shiro and Adam I said hi. Give Pidge and Hunk all my love. Tell Cosmo that I miss him and kiss Allura on the cheek for me (if she’s in the country, that is.)_

_I love you. Lance._

“What an asshole,” Keith hears himself saying out loud.

The words felt short and casual, yet so precise, like Lance had specifically looked for a way to write something that ignored the big elephant in the room completely. Keith doesn’t know what he was looking for but he supposes that a real explanation would be just too much.

 _Typical_ , he thinks. This is totally something he’d do.

Still, it’s Lance. Keith carefully folds the letter back into its envelope and places it on the dining table where it would probably remain untouched until Lance came back.

 

-

 

The summer after college graduation, Keith and Lance moved into the city together.

It only made sense, after talking about it for two years. They had always meant to do it earlier, but Lance just kept renewing the lease he shared with Hunk and as for Keith- well. He figured that Shiro probably needed someone around to help deal with his new prosthetic and it certainly wasn’t going to be Adam at the time.

It was fine for a while, sleeping over some nights, leaving an extra toothbrush around here and there. But Keith wanted to be _home_ , to truly come home and know Lance would be right there, waiting for him every day. To drop into bed every night and know he could be next to the person he loved.

So, they got an apartment.

“Holy shit,” Shiro complained, offloading the last box into their living room. “What the hell do you have in there, bricks?”

“Something like that,” Keith said, opening it with a box cutter. He takes out a book. “It’s my Lovecraft novels.”

“And that creepy shit is coming _nowhere_ near our bedroom,” Lance declared, one hand on his hip while the other pointed an accusing finger at Keith. “All your conspiracy crap stays out here.”

“Fine,” Keith said, rolling his eyes. “It’s why we got the bookshelf.”

It took a little more than a week for them to really get things into order. There was a lot of organizing and rearranging and tossing away because prior to this, they had really just shoved everything they owned into any cardboard box and convinced Shiro to help them drive it over (Lance’s car had been, conveniently, stuck in the shop at the moment). 

They had just been so eager to start a new life together but the apartment didn’t really start feeling like home until everything had found its right place. And even then, maybe it had needed something a little extra.

“I think we’re finally done,” Keith said as he adjusted the photo frame. It was a large matted print of cow, a housewarming gag-gift from Pidge but Lance loved it almost as much as Keith hated it. They compromised by hanging it up in the guest bathroom.

“Finally?” Lance asked, looking around their apartment. It was immaculately clean.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. “I mean, what else do we need?”

“Honestly?” Lance’s expression danced with mirth. “I think we could use a dog around here.”

“Okay,” Keith agreed, simply and immediately. “We can do that.”

And in that moment, nothing could have made Keith happier than he already was.

He had been a ten out of ten.

 

-

 

At some point, Keith decides to stop feeling sorry for himself and start doing something about it.

What he’s feeling lately is not so much a sadness as it is a lack of happiness. Keith knows sadness, has felt it in his bones and in his skin. He’s felt it come into his body and make a home in his heart. He’s almost let it break him.

Keith knows sadness. This is not sadness; it’s an easy-going gloom that is not, by any means, unfixable.

There’s a garage just outside the city where Keith keeps his old bike. He rode it often when he was younger, just a reckless teenager who needed to take his mind off of everything. Back then, there were a lot more reasons to leave than to stay.

In college, his need to escape dwindled. Shiro had come back, and Keith finally started to feel at home again. He met Allura, Hunk, and Pidge. He started dating Lance.

As much as Lance likes to declare himself a daredevil, it had been obvious that he never really liked the idea of being on a motorcycle. The first time Keith took him for a ride, Lance squeezed his middle so firmly, Keith thought he was going to suffocate. Just something about balancing on two wheels that made him uneasy. As attractive he would always say Keith looked in a helmet and leather jacket, he had never been eager to ask for a ride. So, Keith didn’t offer.

Red is parked in the dustiest space, basically untouched since Keith moved into the city. It just happened that way. Life got busy, his weekends occupied. Keith never really thought about it much.

“Well,” the mechanic says, giving the tires a final check. “You should be fine.” He tosses the keys up.

“Thanks,” Keith says, catching them. “I owe you one, Rolo.”

“Don’t mention it,” Rolo grins. “Just don’t stay out too late, alright?”

The breeze in Keith’s face feels strange but not unfamiliar. If he was years younger, there would be a likely probability of trying to break a hundred, cutting corners and taking risks just for the thrill of it. After all, he’s always been the one with bad vices, not Lance.

But Keith is twenty-four with a life he’s built up almost from scratch, so he leaves the thought of speeding to his memories, where they belong.

He winds through the roads, higher and higher, until he feels the sun beat down too hot on his face through the visor of his helmet. Keith stops by the side of the road, a shallow cliff overlooking the city.

From this distance, it’s small. Almost insignificant. The cars, they look smaller than ants. Keith thinks about how far away they seem, how the dots that are people are the same to his eye as the dots that are planets and stars. How distant the past is when you take a step back and how six years ago, he would’ve done anything he could to be where he is now.

Keith thinks about their apartment, miles away in the bustling city. He thinks about Shiro, living just two streets down, and Cosmo on the couch cushions. He thinks about the letters on the dining table, the blankets Pidge left unfolded on the couch. The coldness of his bed, the quiet and hollow closet.

That’s his home. It’s what would always be waiting for him, and where he would always be waiting.

But there’s something else, something familiar, about standing on the edge of the hill that feels like home too. Feels like his own, the quietness and placidity of just himself.

 _Oh_ , Keith realizes, the wind rustling his hair.

 _Alone time_.

 

-

 

“Popcorn is done,” Keith announces. He empties the kernels into a big bowl.

“Holy shit, that smells amazing,” Allura marvels. She’s cuddled up in the blankets, immediately sticking her hand out when Keith brings the bowl over.

“Only the best for Her Highness,” Keith grins, handing the popcorn over. Allura clicks her tongue with disapproval.

“Oh, please. I thought we left that language behind when Lance went away,” she says before shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

For someone so eloquent and stylish, Allura can be really tasteless when there’s no one else around. Something about societal norms and childhood repression? Keith wasn’t really listening when Pidge gave her entire psychoanalytical TED Talk.

“Jesus, slow down.” Keith grabs a handful of popcorn for himself. “What, they don’t have popcorn over there in New Zealand?”

“I’m hungry,” Allura defends. “And excited. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. “I’ve wanted to see this movie since forever.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Allura fixes him with a soft but piercing look. “It’s nice to hang out with just you, and not with you and Lance.”

“Really?” Keith asks, surprised. He ponders for a moment. “I thought Lance was supposed to be the fun one.”

“You’re both fun,” she explains. “But sometimes, I just want to hang out with Keith. Or I want to hang out with Lance. It’s always just been Keith-and-Lance, you know?”

“Oh,” Keith remarks. “I guess that’s true.”

Dating in college had made Keith and Lance inseparable. And it wasn’t like Keith had many friends and family to begin with, so he just happily accepted all of Lance’s into his life. It was like wearing Lance’s presence as a second skin. Keith became comfortable. He had never wanted to leave.

“But Keith-and-Lance is fine too,” Allura assures, leaning over to pat Cosmo’s head. “I’m sure you miss your other dad, don’t you?”

“You know,” Keith says. “He still waits at the door for Lance to come home from work, It’s kind of funny.”

Allura looks thoughtful for a moment. “Isn’t there a book or a movie that’s similar?”

“What?” Keith asks.

“Yeah, it’s about a dog who waits every day for his master to come home from work. But one day, his master leaves and never comes back. What’s it called? Hatsu?”

“Oh,” Keith remembers. “I know what you’re talking about. It’s Hachiko.”

“Damn.” Allura buries her hand into the bowl for more popcorn. “I knew I was close.” 

“I only know this because Lance could not stop crying after he read the book. Apparently, it’s based on a true story?”

“Geez,” Allura frowns. “That makes it even worse.”

“Whatever,” Keith shrugs. “It’s not like Lance is never coming back.”

Allura’s expression suddenly brightens. “Hey,” she says. “You want me to buy you a ticket to Italy? Surprise Lance or something? I know you miss him a lot.”

As a person with a lot of resources, Allura has always been unbelievably good to Keith. It’s tempting too, the thought of seeing Lance. Running into his arms and touching his face. Something inside Keith withers when he realizes that the entire scene plays out like a cheesy teenage romcom. He stamps the daydream out of his head.

“No,” he replies. “I think if I saw him before he was supposed to come back, it would ruin…whatever he’s trying to do. With the break-up and stuff.”

“So, you admit he’s actually trying to do something?”

Keith exhales sharply “I guess. I thought he was just being stupid at first. I don’t know, I was really angry. But I think I’m just going to have to wait this one out.”

“Well,” Allura says, grabbing the remote. “At least you trust him, right?” She turns on the television.

“Right,” Keith mumbles. “Trust.”

 

-

 

 _Hey Sunshine. You know, the other day, I was thinking that it’s funny how many things I’ll see here that I’ve never seen before but they’ll inevitably remind me of things I already know. A scooter driver almost crashed into me on my way to work today. We don’t really have scooters in America but I guess they’re pretty close to motorcycles. The guy went really fast but if I squinted my eyes a little, like looking at a Monet painting, he could almost be you. Maybe I just really miss you._

_Did you know that it’s normal to eat alone in Europe? I never really thought about it but I don’t think I would’ve ever walked into a restaurant by myself before and just sat down like that. But people do it all the time here and I kind of love it. Being alone at home is nice, so why not do it in public too? I think I might start doing it._

_How is Cosmo? Are Pidge and Hunk doing well? I would bet my next paycheck that you’ve been hanging out with Shiro and Adam a lot lately. I know you won’t answer these questions but it still feels nice to ask. Sometimes, a conversation really can just be one person. I hope you’re not keeping too quiet these days. Talk to you soon._

_I love you. Lance._

 

-

 

Out of all the anniversaries of his life, Keith remembers this one the most. It’s morbid, really, how he remembers it better than he remembers his own birthday. But anyone would remember the day their parents left, and never came back. Sometimes, the things you want to forget the most find a way to make themselves known.

In a classic example of sibling escapism, Shiro texts Keith in the morning to call plans off. 

 _Sorry_ , it says. _But I don’t think I can go today. Veronica will pick you up instead_.

Keith just snorts and texts back an entire row of middle finger emojis. In the end, it’s probably better like this. Everyone copes with different ways at different times and it’s unfair to assume that Shiro can always be strong. Even with those broad shoulders, the weight of the world is saddling. The least Keith can do is be understanding.

“Thanks, again,” Keith repeats, sounding like a broken record. It’s a nice thing she’s doing, using her weekend to drive him to, of all places, a desolate cemetery. And they’re not even related. Maybe she’s trying to make up for how awful Lance is. Keith considers buying her dinner or something.

“Oh, please,” Veronica says. She takes the key out of ignition and folds her glasses up, cracking open a window while she’s at it. “Just get this over with before I bake in the hot sun.”

That’s Veronica-speak for _don’t mention it_. Keith ducks his head and gets out the car, feeling the warm light on his face. Veronica is right. It’s hot outside.

His parents share a gravestone. They had been short on money, with Shiro’s upcoming college tuition along with the urgent need for cash in order to put Keith _somewhere_ while that happened. One was cheaper than two. It worked out just fine. 

Spring has just blown over. The grave is littered with tiny flower petals, small as confetti, like his parents had been waiting and decided to throw him a welcome party. Keith can’t help but smile.

“Hi, mom,” he says, kneeling at the stone. “Hi, dad.” 

He sits here like this, being both with and without, in silence. His heart usually did most of the talking anyways, wishing himself in and out of their deaths. Lately, it’s been more acceptance. Knowing that they were gone but also, right here with him. 

Keith reaches out, fingers tracing the carved letters. He thinks about joy and loss and loving people aren’t there to love you back. The pain, it never disappears. What it does do is get less and less, every year, until eventually, it’s just an inkling of a feeling in the back of his mind. It’s a part of him. He regards it like his own.

The gravestone feels rough under his hands. The way it’s worn down at the corners is comforting, like somehow, someway, time is passing for his parents too. Still, yet moving. Going, but stopping.

And then Keith realizes, slowly and then all at once, that maybe this wasn’t about struggling to be without, but rather, learning how to just be.

 

-

 

Keith remembers the conversation they had like it was yesterday, or maybe even this morning. It had been easy, like trying to decide what to have for breakfast or arguing over the grocery list.

“I can ask for a different project,” Lance offered. “Five months is really long. Italy is far.”

Keith shook his head, resolute. “Lance, this is your dream client. You should go.”

“I know you’ll get mad at me for asking,” Lance said, taking Keith’s hand in his. “But you’ll be okay?”

Keith scoffed. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

And then Lance smiled, because he knew it was true.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He pointed a finger at the left side of Keith’s chest, right where his heart sat. “I’ll be right here anyways.”

And then Keith wacked Lance over the head with a pillow to punish him for being so greasy. They laughed about it for a bit and then went out for dinner. Keith had been a nine, cruising on ten, and it felt like everything was going to be okay.

Thinking back, it all seemed so simple and straightforward, but Keith knows now that it’s anything but. Being in love was terrifying. Being in love is still terrifying. Loving someone through all the hardships of life, it seems almost impossible. You might get hurt. People can lie and cheat and also, of course, break up with you at the airport right before their flight.

Love is scary. It’s full of big commitments and things you can and can’t do and a lot of it feels like diving off the deep end, jumping down when you have no idea where or how you’ll land.

Keith thinks about the feeling of Lance’s fingers between his, a phantom sensation that he knows he’ll never forget. Maybe by now, he’s learned that some things are worth taking the risk for and some things are worth risking everything for. All he really wants is to hear his own voice say those three little words again. For once, he’ll think about what he wants and not what he needs.

And somehow, that’s enough.

 

-

 

_Hey Sunshine. I’ve got something to tell you. I know I always tell you everything, but what I’ve realized lately is that some things, maybe the most important things, I don’t tell you. Maybe I forget, maybe I don’t want to, maybe because telling you would mean acknowledging them and maybe, for a really long time, I didn’t want to do that._

_Here’s a little secret: I’m terrified. I don’t know where I’m going to be in ten years. I don’t know where you’ll be in ten years. All I know is that I would do anything to make sure we were still next to each other when that time came, for twenty, fifty, a hundred years._

_This much I know: we’re not together because we need each other. You and me, it’s not about being two halves to a whole, but being whole together. I’m not looking to complete you. You shouldn’t expect that from me either. I don’t think anyone should expect that from anybody._

_Don’t get me wrong though. I want to do everything with you and go everywhere with you and I even want to get lost with you. But sometimes, I think we need to get lost on our own._

_Keith, you’re alone. But you’re not lonely. I need you to understand that._

_I love you. Lance_

 

-

 

At the airport, Keith sees Lance first.

He comes out of baggage claim dragging three huge suitcases behind him. He’s wearing blue. Keith has to hold his breath a little. It feels, almost, like it’s too much.

Lance looks a little sheepish, like he’s considering the possibility that Keith might’ve not come today, like he could’ve reneged on the agreement they made, all those months ago, to take a day off work and pick up Lance at the airport. Keith almost snorts because honestly, he was thinking about it.

And then Lance sees Keith, finally, and has the fucking audacity to _smile_ , this overjoyed expression of relief washing across him as he makes his way over, and Keith knows for a fact that there are few moments in his life where he’s felt more infuriated than he is now.

“Keith-,” Lance begins, but Keith knows better than to let him finish his sentence. He punches Lance as hard as he can on his shoulder.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, hitting him again, lightly this time, just for good measure. It’s satisfying to see the way Lance winces.

“Babe,” Lances wheezes, clutching his shoulder. “Have you been working out?”

Keith rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just get to the car.”

 

-

 

Cosmo throws his entire body weight onto Lance when they open the front door. Keith watches as Lance gets on both knees and showers Cosmo with forehead kisses. He thinks about the story of Hachiko.

Cosmo calms down, eventually. He leaves to claim his napping spot on the couch and Lance heads straight to the kitchen, a cup of caffeine declared necessary to help combat the wave of jet-lag that’s about to hit him.

“Um, Keith?” he asks, peering through the cabinets, and Keith internally sighs because he knows what this is about.

“Yeah?” he responds.

Lance tilts his head. He looks a little confused. A little suspicious. “Where’s my favorite coffee mug?”

“Oh, it broke,” Keith remarks. And then he quickly tacks on, “it was an accident.”

“Are you sure?” Lance asks, quirking his brow so much it was almost comical. God, Keith missed those eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he swiftly lies. “It fell on the floor the day you left.”

Lance huffs, puffing out his chest like one of those silly male birds during mating rituals. 

“Well, I think I have my answer then,” he grumbles, reaching toward the back for one of Keith’s mugs. “Don’t think that I’ll forget this.”

“I don’t think I’ll forget any of this either,” Keith mutters under his breath.

 

-

 

May is cool this year, like spring is trying to hang on just a bit longer before summer will, inevitably and completely, take over. Keith isn’t too keen on the heat but Lance loves summer and it makes him happy, so Keith decided that he would love summer too.

Cosmo is tearing through the grass, having finally located some canine friends. He dashes across the park, increasing his distance further and further, but Keith isn’t feeling too concerned. Unlike Lance, Cosmo never strays too far.

“I’m sorry,” Lance blurts out, and the words sound weird, just a bit off coming out of his mouth. The wind takes the syllables and blows them away, scattering the sounds because they had no real meaning or weight in the first place.

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it,” Keith grates. “I don’t think there’s anything to be sorry about, anyways.”

“You’re just saying that,” Lance replies knowingly, but not accusingly. “You’re definitely expecting an apology.”

Keith knows Lance like the back of his hand, but Lance knows Keith just as well. It’s hard to be petty when you’re seen through so quickly.

“Yeah,” Keith admits. “I guess I am. Just like how I broke your mug.” 

“I knew it!” Lance exclaims. And then he calms down, shrugs it off. “Collateral damage, I suppose.”

Keith says nothing.

 

-

 

They eat dinner in near silence, conversation still stilted and beyond awkward. Even though they’re facing each other, there’s no good reason to really look at each other. There’s pasta on their plates, water in cups, and the letters are pushed off to the side. Keith briefly wonders if he should throw them away.

“Alright, you’re scaring me,” Lance concedes. He pushes his peas into a little pile. 

“What?” Keith asks, taking a sip of water. He isn’t, by any means, going to make this easy for Lance.

“Come on,” Lance tries. “Give me something here. At least tell me where you are on the scale.” 

“Oh, the scale?” Keith thinks for a moment. “Like, maybe a five.”

“Only a five?” Lance sniffs. It’s kind of pitiful. 

“Well,” Keith starts, wondering where to begin. “I’ve got a lot or work to finish at the office.”

Lance nods, tapping his fingers on the table. “That’s it?”

“No,” Keith answers. “Cosmo tracked in mud after our walk. We need to clean it up.”

“Okay,” Lance acknowledges, and Keith absolutely hates how much patience he has. “What else?”

“Shiro invited himself over for dinner tomorrow. The apartment needs to be vacuumed.”

“And?”

“And my boyfriend just got back from gallivanting around in Italy for five months but I haven’t even gotten a single kiss.”

Lance is quiet for a moment, mouth forming a silent _oh_. And then he smiles and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and this time, Keith actually believes it.

Lance puts down his fork, walks across the length of the dining table, and brings their faces so close, Keith thinks he can count his eyelashes.

“I’ll fix that right now,” he says, and kisses Keith square on the mouth. The kiss is incredibly lame and Keith almost snorts because even the kisses they shared in college, when they were still awkward and stumbling into each other, were better than this. But then Lance opens his mouth, just a little bit, and Keith leans forward to chase that empty space. The second kiss lingers with a promise of something more. This is what Keith missed. 

“Adequate,” Keith says when they pull apart. He’s a little breathless. “Six.”

“Six!” Lance laments. And for the first time today, Keith laughs.

 

-

 

They bump elbows at the sink while getting ready for bed.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbles through toothbrush in his mouth. “Got used to the space.” 

“Same,” Lance says, and their hands collide when both of them reach for the faucet.

Keith gets into bed first, holding a book but not really reading it. He’s listening to Lance in the hallway, saying goodnight to Cosmo. It feels normal, and yet not at all.

“Early day tomorrow?” Lance asks when he comes into the bedroom. Keith puts his book down.

“Yeah,” he says, and the simple answer beckons Lance to bed. He turns the lamp off.

There’s a healthy amount of space between them. Keith closes the gap and rests his head on Lance’s chest, fingers almost clutching the front of his shirt. 

“Missed me?” Lance asks jokingly. His voice is slow, ready for sleep. He brings an arm around Keith, resting at his waist.

“I love you,” Keith says.

“I love you,” Lance says.

And Keith smiles, because he knows that no truer statement has ever been spoken.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this story has been in my head for awhile now - i needed to write it down somewhere. title comes from white lies by jhameel. as always, thanks for reading until the end ❤


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